by Carla Caruso
Head down, she stepped towards the door. If they walked side-by-side and she let her hair swing in her face, she could keep him off the scent longer. Then, once indoors, it’d be time to come up with a Plan B.
‘Hey, not so fast.’ Mina’s innards shrivelled as Jadon grabbed her by the arm in the doorway. ‘Do I get a kiss hello?’
‘Ha!’ She squeaked, pressing a hand to her mouth. ‘Morning breath.’
Bad breath that’d been magnified by the useless sludge she’d just gulped down.
‘Whatever you say.’ He reached to extract a few twigs from her hair, then leant forwards … landing a kiss on her nose!
He rained more butterfly-soft pecks there, and she realised he was kissing her freckles. From the repeated movement, she could work out her nose’s outline: cute and tiny again! She’d got away with things by the skin of her teeth once more, or perhaps her nose.
Jadon switched to holding her hand as they headed outdoors, like he couldn’t get enough of her touch either. He darted a glance at her. ‘By the way, I’ve been meaning to apologise for how I acted at your sister’s party.’ He twisted his luscious mouth. ‘The bohemian vibe kind of reminded me of my mother. She was into plants and stuff too. But it’s different with you. You make gardening seem … cute. Anyway, it was unfair of me to behave like that.’
A light drizzle started to fall, sprinkling Mina’s hair. She smiled. ‘I’m just glad you didn’t totally hate my prop styling. Although, news flash, generally telling a girl she reminds you of your mother isn’t ideal.’
Jadon returned the smile. ‘I’ll take that on-board.’
Mina was distracted from his too-good-to-be-true looks by an urge to sneeze. She spun away, giving into a series of them, her arm over her mouth.
Through bleary eyes, she spied a ginger cat clawing at a nearby tree like it was trying to ringbark it. Aha. ‘Sorry,’ she recovered herself, turning back. ‘I’m allergic to cats. I didn’t know you had one!’
Jadon glanced in the feline’s direction. ‘Oh, that stray has hung around here forever. I think the gardener feeds it. The crafty thing has even worked out how to jump up and ring the doorbell.’
Mina gaped. ‘The doorbell?’
‘I know, right? It’s bizarre. And people say dogs are smarter than cats.’ He shook his head. ‘Anyway, we should probably get out of this rain before it really starts bucketing.’
Mina glanced at the stray one more time before they took off. She didn’t think cats liked being wet either. But now it sat on its haunches, staring at her with all-knowing olive-green eyes, like it could see through her phoniness, nose included. To say she was feeling a tad jumpy was an understatement.
Chapter 18
A FORTNIGHT LATER
Mina placed one foot in front of the other as organ music swelled inside the little hilltop church. She might have been at Lotta’s (slightly early) wedding rehearsal, and wearing jeans, but she was allowing herself a mini fantasy that Jadon was waiting for her at the altar. A girl could dream, right?
She sailed past her mum and nonna in the front row. As usual, her mum didn’t look like a typical mother of the bride in her PVC trench coat and silver sequinned trousers. She was also ‘rehearse crying’ into her cleavage. But even her antics couldn’t bother Mina in her loved-up state. She wafted over to the left of the altar.
Two girls from Lotta’s glossy posse soon joined her, appearing as pretty and useless as ornamental pear trees, as usual. Here Comes the Bride then started up. Lotta floated down the aisle, beaming like she was dressed in white and this was the real thing. Naturally, she’d since got over Dino’s lie about his buck’s night.
Typically, Mina felt a twinge of something as she gazed at her smiling sister … jealousy? Anguish? Nope, it was happiness. Lotta deserved wedded bliss even if it was something that would always elude Mina, emphasised by her ‘nose incident’. But she could live vicariously as Lotta hit all the typical milestones—marriage, motherhood, and more—without bitterness.
Mina was now just glad to have had the opportunity of a fling with Jadon. On cold lonely nights in the future, she could let the memory of their dalliance warm her. Keep it preserved like a fresh flower pressed under glass. Who said short-lived love wasn’t as important as the long-term variety? Yes … love.
So, the relationship would inevitably come to an end. She was just glad to have experienced such feelings in her lifetime. Her affection for Jadon outstripped anything she’d ever felt for Arlo. It was a love that came with maturity and wisdom.
The antique shop had closed for a fortnight over the Christmas-New Year break. And she still wasn’t sure if it’d be Jadon or Mr Eder who’d be there when it reopened; she and Jadon hadn’t yet been brave enough to discuss the topic. But they had been sucking the marrow out of the time they did have together, on the sly. For their next big date, they were headed to a fancy-dress ball at the botanic garden tomorrow evening, which just happened to be Christmas Eve!
The muffled ringing of a phone distracted her thoughts. She arched an eyebrow at the glossy posse girls, but neither of them was sheepishly reaching into their pockets. Hang on. She recognised that ringtone! It was her phone, shrilling from her bag discarded on a back pew.
Mumbling an apology to the priest, she dashed down the aisle and scooped up her bag. She figured she’d disturb things just as much hanging up the call, so she headed out into the night to answer it. Lotta and Dino would be fine running through their vows without her for a few minutes.
Of course, as soon as her espadrilles hit the gravel, the call rang out. She rummaged in her handbag for the phone and checked the screen. ‘Jadon’ flashed back at her, making her heart perform a little happy dance. It was the one night they hadn’t planned to meet up with Mina having the rehearsal. But maybe he’d thought she’d finished up and was already missing hearing her voice.
She stared at the view over the valley at night, contemplating whether she should call him back or wait until later. Like at the summit, she could make out the vast rubbish dump, which Arlo’s dad owned, awash with light. A plume of smoke curled up from the site into the inky sky. Interesting. The place seemed a hive of activity. Maybe Arlo was working overtime to fulfil his dream of buying a bigger home sooner. Funnily, she didn’t really care.
Turning her attention back to her phone, she decided just to text Jadon back for now. But in her haste, she clicked on the wrong app. The tabloid newspaper she’d been absently scrolling earlier, while waiting for the others, filled the screen. A news post was now at the top of the feed, with an image of a busty blonde woman in a black corset. So tabloid.
She moved to click out of the app but hesitated. The blonde looked eerily familiar … why? Mina read the headline and her heart stopped. ‘Young Masseuse Dies After Falling from Hotel Balcony.’ Oh my god. It was Nerida, who she’d sold the ‘get over him’ spell to! She’d … she’d plunged to her death? Mina’s phone wobbled in her grip, and the warm fuzzies in her stomach were doused out by a steely coldness. She’d been naïve to think she could hang onto such feelings for long.
Zombie-like, she clicked on the article, speed-reading its contents. It was unclear whether the death was a suicide or an accident—the police were still investigating—but it really didn’t matter. Poor Nerida was gone, and … and Mina could well be to blame.
It was possible her desire to help had been subconsciously muddied, pre-fling, by her own discontent. It was hard to know. But what else could have caused tragedy to strike again?
Spell-selling had been Mina’s little secret; she wasn’t as experienced in witchcraft as her mum and nonna. But it seemed too much of a coincidence that two of her clients had recently been affected by misfortune, directly or otherwise. And both times, it’d been splashed across the news. Mina was no longer just a curse unto herself but to others.
Her head spinning, she chucked her phone back in her bag and raced over to where her SUV was parked. Scrambling inside, she gunned the engine and sque
aled out onto the road.
She needed to be someplace where she could be completely alone. Somewhere she couldn’t endanger anyone else, including her loved ones. It was only once she was a kilometre away that the radio track spilling from the speakers penetrated her skull—Cobra Starship’s Good Girls Go Bad. It was both terrible and appropriate.
The sound of birds twittering and little feet scratching about in leaves filtered into Mina’s brain. She opened one eye, then the other, white light piercing through shadowy foliage. Hoisting herself up, she peered around, her location fully sinking in—Hilforest Botanic Garden. Somehow, she must have fallen asleep on a branch of a Moreton Bay fig tree.
Last night, she’d given into the pervasive pull of being outdoors, like a pet tired of domesticated life. Or a zoo animal that’d gone loopy in captivity. Magic had helped her get past the locked gates. The rest was pretty much a blur. She’d given herself over to nature. Who knew? Maybe if she hung out there long enough, she could ‘feed’ the flora, composting back into the ground like old fruit. Leaf litter. Surely that’d be better for everybody.
Footsteps squelched through grass in the distance … or maybe she was imagining things? Nope. They’d got closer. Red flashed through the branches. It coloured the rain parka of a thin, white-haired woman. She might have been a gardening volunteer; it seemed too early for visitors. Mina drew in a breath as the grandma paused at the base of the tree. Would she see her?
Strangely, the woman knelt to place a brown paper bag among the tree’s thick roots. Was she discarding dog poo or something else? Mina nearly fell off the branch as the granny suddenly glanced up, catching her eye. Her heart leapt into her throat. But the lady looked away again, dusting herself off, and continued on her way. At least she hadn’t asked Mina why she was there at that hour, up a tree.
Once the grandma was out of sight, Mina leapt down from the branch onto the ground. Mucky leaves and grass nestled her bare feet. Sometime during the night she’d obviously lost her espadrilles, along with her mind. She shook debris from her hair, then, her curiosity piqued, she reached for the paper bag.
Gingerly, she unrolled its top and peeked inside. A plastic-wrapped sandwich and a Pink Lady apple sat there. The grandma must have spotted Mina earlier and thought she was homeless, or at the very least, sleeping off a big night. So, she’d come to drop off some food. How mortifying.
Still, Mina’s stomach growled. Giving in, she pulled out the sandwich—a cheese one, on closer inspection—removed the plastic and sank her teeth into the bread. She was ravenous.
As she chewed, her mind ticked over, rationality seeping in again. She knew she couldn’t hide out among the trees forever. But she could find out what had happened to Nerida, work out whether the spell really had contributed to her death. If Mina was to blame, she needed to own up somehow, to pay the price.
Movement distracted her attention. Ah, it was just her handbag swinging on a branch. Thankfully, she hadn’t let it go missing too. After polishing off the sandwich, she reached to unhook the bag, then dug around inside for her phone. Soon after she’d fired it up, it jangled and vibrated with multiple messages. Of course, she hadn’t told her family why she took off last night or even replied to Jadon.
But she could deal with all that later. She had more urgent things to do. Quickly, she searched on her phone for the parlour where Nerida had worked.
‘Lush Massage,’ a woman answered after a few rings, her voice sounding more cigarette-stained than luscious. ‘Can I help you?’
‘Er, I was hoping to speak to Wizzy.’ Good thing Wizzy had such a memorable name. Mina figured that the workmates had been close and Wizzy could well shine some light on Nerida’s fall. ‘Is … is she around today?’
‘Wizzy doesn’t work here anymore,’ the woman growled, causing disappointment to plunge through Mina. Her voice softened again. ‘We do, however, have other masseuses, willing to offer female-on-female services.’
‘Oh, no,’ Mina cried. ‘That wasn’t what I was after sorry. I-I’m just an old friend of hers. I’ve been wanting to catch up with her while I’m in town, but she’s proving hard to track down. You don’t happen to know where she’s working now?’
The woman paused to emit a hacking cough before returning to the line. ‘She’s switched to some nasty joint called Open Legs, apparently. Thought she could get more coin there, but I doubt it. Lush is more respectable anyway.’
Open Legs. It was the same place that Dino had ‘disgraced’ himself. What were the chances?
‘Uh, thank you. I’ll try there.’
‘No problems,’ the woman replied. ‘I’m just glad you’re not another nosy reporter, trying to dig for dirt on a girl of ours who had a fatal fall recently. It’s sad enough.’
Mina’s stomach lurched. ‘Oh … that’s terrible.’
‘Anyway,’ the woman pushed on. ‘Were you looking for some extra income? Our clients can be very generous with their tips, plus we pay in cash.’
‘Um, no, I have a full-time job, but thanks anyway,’ Mina squeaked.
Almost as soon as she’d terminated the call, the phone buzzed with another one. Lotta! Sucking in a breath, Mina swiped the screen to answer it. Unfortunately, she couldn’t blot out reality forever.
‘Where the hell are you?’ her sister yelled down the line as soon as she’d pressed it to her ear. ‘Mum said she did a visualisation and that you’re okay, you just had some sort of issues to grapple with, but I’ve still been worried. I thought the church rehearsal might have, like, sent you over the edge or something. I know you think you’re doomed in love and all.’
‘I’m fine,’ Mina rushed to reassure her. ‘Mum was right. I mean, I did have a little … episode. But I’m feeling clearer. Anyway, there’s something I wanted to ask you too. It might sound a bit weird, though.’
‘Oh-kay,’ Lotta prompted, uncertainty tinging her voice.
‘Fancy checking out that place, Open Legs, with me?’
Chapter 19
‘I can’t believe Dino frequented this dive!’ Lotta spat out as she gazed around the shadowy strip club that evening.
While Mina hadn’t yet been able to tell her mum and nonna how foolish she’d been selling spells, she’d somehow known that Lotta would get it, if not the venue. Onstage, a trio of scantily clad women took turns performing on a pole to overloud music; none of whom were Wizzy. Leering men looked on from bar tables, downing beers as quickly as the women shed layers.
‘Dino only came here for his stag night,’ Mina reminded Lotta. ‘It’s not like it’s his usual haunt.’
If she wasn’t so tense, she might have even poked fun at the look of horror etched on Lotta’s face.
‘It’d better not be his secret hangout,’ Lotta ground out. ‘I already feel like I need to go home to shower.’ She really was a precious ‘un.
‘Maybe we should get a drink? That’s harmless enough, right?’ Mina encouraged. ‘Then I can have a chance to scope out the area. The quicker I find Wizzy, the quicker we can get out of here.’
It was a gamble that Wizzy would even be there, considering that her friend had just died, and it was Christmas Eve. But Mina had to at least give it a go.
‘Fine, let’s get a drink,’ Lotta huffed. ‘Though, the thought of who could have used the cocktail glass before me is seriously off-putting. You’re lucky you got me at a weak point when guilting me into this.’
Mina kept her tone light and breezy. ‘Consider it payback for organising your bridal shower and putting up with your high-maintenance friends. Besides—’ she winked, ‘—you might pick up some dance moves to try out on Dino.’
Lotta rolled her eyes. ‘Puh-lease.’
They pushed through the crowd for the bar. While Mina had thought they’d stick out as female patrons—even wearing inconspicuous black, just in case—the men were too busy checking out the strippers to notice them.
Unfortunately, she hadn’t thought about how her overlay cape dress might work as a c
ostume for the ball later on … except for one mad, ridiculous idea. At any rate, she’d got herself into this mess, she could only blame herself for the consequences.
Earlier on, she’d called Jadon to tell him that she’d meet him at the ball. He’d sounded a bit funny about it, especially as they hadn’t seen each other all day nor spoken last night. Perhaps he thought she needed to put some distance between them before he left, to wean herself off him. It was probably for the best.
She waited in the bar queue with Lotta as Peking Duk’s Fake Magic blasted from the speakers. Turning, she watched the emcee welcome a solo act, dubbed Dirty Chai, to the stage. Sutton’s secret porn star name … it was already taken! A blonde high-kicked her way into the spotlight, clad in a magician’s cape, top hat and fishnets. Mina’s stomach cramped. It was Wizzy—
‘What’s your poison, Bugatti?’
A familiar figure loomed alongside her. Bugger, literally. It was Riley, the insect guy who imagined she smelt like garlic permanently (and not just when she’d had dinner at her nonna’s). And she’d thought she could escape male attention at the club.
Mina forced a smile, wanting to tell him that he’d just called her by a car brand and not a term of endearment. But what would be the point? ‘Oh, hi. I’m all good. Fancy seeing you here.’
He leant forwards and she sucked in a breath as a stench filled her nostrils. Now he smelled like garlic sauce? ‘I followed you in actually, princesspesto,’ he confided. ‘I was having a pre-Christmas yiros across the road and saw you entering. Who knew this was your kind of place?’
Oh, gawd. The odour wasn’t her magic backfiring this time. He’d obviously figured he could handle her ‘pong’ better having just chowed down on garlicky takeaway himself. Like they might cancel out one another’s smell. It was equal parts sweet and terrible. He hadn’t given up on ‘them’ yet. Lotta shot the pair of them a curious look before stepping up to order drinks.